The Vampire And The Highland Empath (8 page)

Alex huffed, shaking his head.

“A less conspicuous getaway it is.” Roque took Edeen’s hand again. “Stay low.”

They edged back along the wall and behind the store, onto a dirt path that ran between two white-washed fishermen cottages—turned
Talson Inn
by the hanging sign with
Tail O the Fox
Pub
taking up the shorter adjacent cottage.
 
A man and woman crossed the street and went into the inn.

Sitting around the corner was an old battered Ford, ripe for the picking.
 

“Think you can get that started?”

Alex threw him his patented do-you-need-to-ask glare and they scurried out into the road just as two more Germans rounded the side of the inn.

Eyes widening, both SS men went for their concealed guns.

Chapter Eight

An old man stepped out of the pub, tipping his hat when he saw them.

“Good day,” Roque practically shoved Edeen through the open doorway while latching onto Alex’s rucksack and dragging the younger man with them and found himself staring into the faces of half a dozen ghouls, mostly old sea-faring ghouls that carried the tales of a hard life etched into the crevices of their leather-gray faces.
 
The ghouls gave them a steady look over.

Pipe smoke coated the air, heavy and rich of Cavendish tobacco, displacing the underlying smell of rotted flesh. Roque winced, eyeing the serving platters around the room, knowing ghouls’ propensity for graveyards and
aged
meat. Sometimes preternatural senses weren’t all that desirable. It stank to the point of nausea. Time to go.
 
Roque scanned the room, searching for an exit point, not willing to engage if any of the old gents had that in mind.

Edeen, on the other hand, didn’t have the same qualms and exclaimed, “There’s men coming in here to abduct us.
Sassenachs
.”
 
 

Every craggy head swiveled to her, taking in her ragged underskirts and disheveled appearance, and seemingly as one, the ghouls rose, roaring their indignation. Leave it to the romantic heart of a Scottish ghoul to rise to the defense of a maiden without question.

Edeen smiled up at him, smugly proud of herself.

Alex tsked behind him. “There’ll be no livin with her now.”

The two Germans burst into the room.

“It’s them,” Alex took up Edeen’s ploy. So help him, if he cried “save us” Roque was going to swat him. Instead Alex pointed. “Those men. One’s a
krampus.
Nazis,” he added for emphasis and had to duck out of the way as one of the ghouls leapt over a table.

Roque winced, spotting a cane swinging toward the two fellows who were abruptly surrounded by an angry, gnashing mob. He almost felt sorry for them. Almost.

A chair skittered across the floor.

“Out the back, dearies.” The grizzled barkeep, cricket paddle in fist, beckoned them to follow.

Roque dodged a flying spittoon, yanking Edeen out of the path of a rolling table.

Alex grabbed a half-drunk pint of ale and gulped it down as he flew after them.

The barkeep pulled open a door in the back and led them through a small apartment. “Ye’ll have tae take the window.”

Roque clasped his hand. “Our gratitude.”

“Aye.” The ghoul lifted the paddle in a mock salute. “Tae hell with Hitler.” Grinning broadly, he dashed back out the way he came.

“God love a riled Scotsman.” Alex shoved open the window and rolled outside.

“Right. Out we go, Treasure.” Without asking her permission, Roque swept Edeen up, cumbersome skirts and all, and carried her through the window, scraping his back in the tight fit.

“Stop calling me that,” she railed.

He hit the ground on the run, not letting Edeen down, not until he had her tucked away somewhere safe.

Several children played ball in the back alley, human and ghoul.

Alex had already climbed into a rusty old lorry, hunched over to get at the wiring beneath the dashboard.

“Halt!”

Roque froze.

“It’s him,” Edeen whispered, able to see over his shoulder, though Roque already knew who it was. Wulf Geschopf’s voice plagued every wretched broken strand left of his soul.

The children stopped. The ball rolled across the ground, bouncing into the upturned heel of Geschopf’s boot.

Edeen pulled out of Roque’s arms and immediately shouted at the children, shooing them away. “Run! Invaders are upon us. Run!”

Invaders
?

“Nazis,” Roque snarled, showing his pointed incisors and flung out his arms and the children screamed, scattering.

Geschopf bellowed. The ghouls and villagers slammed out of doorways, mothers screaming for their children.

Geschopf lifted his luger at Roque…and the old lorry screeched to a stop between them, heavy grey petrol fumes, clouding out of the gurgling engine.

“Hop to!” Alex shoved the door open and grabbing Edeen about the waist, Roque tossed her inside, following suit and Alex stomped the pedal to the floorboard. The truck heaved ahead, leaving Geschopf screeching out commands.

The back window exploded. A bullet whipped through Edeen’s hair, breaking a hole in the front windscreen.

“Down!” Roque pulled Edeen to the side though there wasn’t much room to maneuver.

Edeen’s eyes were huge. Alex pulled the truck onto the main roadway through the village.

“Gun.” Roque shouted, and Alex leaned forward over the large steering wheel, exposing the Enfield at the back of his waistband.

Roque grabbed it.

Angled it out the back.

Clouds of kicked-up dirt rolled behind them. No way would he fire while still in the village proper.

A roar whined behind them. Out of the dust cloud emerged a Rolls Royce convertible a few meters from their tailpipe, and gaining.

Another bullet shrieked, plowing into the dashboard.

“Stoppen Sie feuern!”

“Faster,” Roque shouted.

Alex’s gaze snapped to his, annoyance flashing, then back to the road. The old lorry labored on, coughing and sputtering. They rolled onto the main roadway out of the village.

Edeen clutched the dashboard, knuckles white. “What manner of cart is this!”

“Lorry!” Roque and Alex growled out in unison. They were hit from behind. The truck groaned, front wheels lifting, then crashing back onto the road in a lurch.

Alex jerked the wheel, careening them to the right.

The Rolls followed, engine revving and plowed into them. They flew forward and back, bouncing against each other in the tight cab. A bullet hit the dashboard a centimeter from Edeen’s fist and Roque growled.

Enough was enough.

Snarling, he jerked open the door and pivoted out, leaping into the truck bed and onto the front of the Rolls Royce. The driver, another
krampus
, shrieked, jerking the wheel. A shot went wild as they swerved off the roadway. Geschopf ripped the gun from the soldier.

“Don’t shoot him!”

Roque tore the driver from the seat, throwing him out. The convertible bounced over him. Geschopf grabbed the wheel and Roque flew onto the seats after the second soldier in the back with a rifle.

“Roque, stop this,” Geschopf shouted. “It’s time for you to come home!” Geschopf got the car back onto the road.

Roque’s head snapped up in disbelief. The soldier landed a kick to his chest that pushed. Roque into the gears stick. The Rolls lurched forward, gears squealing.

They hit…something, and the car tilted, rising up on one side, tires spinning in the air. Cursing, Geschopf tried to right it, but the Rolls Royce was already swerving too hard, dipping to its side.

Roque ducked down in the seats, rolling, tumbling through the air, pitching to a bone-jarring stop on the vehicle’s side. The engine screeched, smoking, tires spinning.

Roque fell out to the ground, jarring every bone in his body. The soldier lay half beneath the crumbled side of the car, blood running from his lips, no heartbeat.
 

Pushing up to his knees, Roque shook his head to clear it.

And was grabbed from behind, hauled off his feet and spun to the gleaming red scales of a demi-dragon. Partially transformed, Geschopf survived the crash by transforming and leaping out of the rolling vehicle. Red scales rippled as Geschopf frowned, large snout cracking as Wulf reshaped back into a man. “Why do you run from me?” His dragon voice rasped, guttural and ancient, the purr of prehistoric magic beyond time.
  

Tires screeched on gravel.

Roque grabbed Geschopf’s wrists, fighting to twist, pushing down the gut-wrenching fear. His legs floundered off the ground. He was a little boy again, caught up in Wulf’s grip, torn away from all he knew and vulnerable.

Geschopf leaned in close. “We weren’t finished, you and I. We will never be finished.”

“Put him down,” Edeen called out, and a terror more strong than what he’d ever felt as a child raged through Roque. Terror for Edeen. He didn’t want Geschopf to so much as look upon her.

Both Roque and Geschopf swiveled sideways to see her. Wulf’s slitted pupils expanded, taking her in.

Edeen stood just past the open door of the lorry yards away, Alex still at the wheel. She stood rigid, unafraid beneath the stare of one of the most truly heinous creatures upon the earth, pointing a German luger straight at them.

Geschopf smiled, revealing daggered teeth behind scaly lips. “Ah, the little empath. Come here, child.”

“I told ye to put him down.” She didn’t bat an eye, though Roque felt the rapid frightened pace of her pulse.

Geschopf tsked as though she were a child. “First rule you’ll learn: I’m in charge. Tell me what to do again and I’ll break his—“

A shot barked out. Edeen stumbled back from the recoil. Geschopf gasped and stared at his shoulder, at the blossoming flow of violet blood.

The bullet.

The bullet engineered especially for Roque.

Especially for dragons.

Taking advantage of Geschopf’s shock, Roque kicked out, getting out of the dragon’s hold. He punched him in the gut, bending the powerful
Schwarze
Klaue
over.

“Go, go!” Roque ran, grabbing Edeen by the arm and pulling her away, practically throwing her back into the truck as Alex stomped the accelerator.

As the lorry rattled down the roadway, Geschopf shouted, holding his shoulder and running after them until they climbed a hill, gaining speed when they came down the other side.

“Any idea where we’re headed?”

“Away from here,” Alex ground out. “Far as I can tell, we’re on the arterial roadway to Dunoon.”

Perfect. From Dunoon, they could catch a ferry across the Firth of Clyde and get to the Royal Naval shipyards at Greenock. No German, especially Geschopf would dare set foot in Greenock.

Chapter Nine

Edeen stared at the monstrosity of a ship. ‘Twas all so strange, this century. And wondrous. Mechanisms. Engines. Mankind had created a magic of their own, powered by harnessing steam and minerals and fossils taken from the earth.

“What is it?”

After ditching the lorry in the city, this Dunoon, she and Roque waited in the shadow of a
factory
near the wharf while Alex went to secure passage across the Firth.

“Paddle steamer. The only one left for civilians that hasn’t been conscripted by the Royal Navy.” Roque took her hand and heat instantly flared between their palms. “Are you all right? None of this has been easy for you.”

Edeen stared at the strange vessel, at the large wheel on her side and the tall smoke stacks. A longing for home, her time, her brothers and clan, crested over her. She needed to find a sorcerer to open a rift and send her home.